The Hawthorn Wand
by Kateli
Summary: “The Dark Lord didn’t leave without bestowing the gift of his eternal presence. There has been a vast amount of magic, particularly dark, performed within these walls. Doesn’t feel nice, does it?" One-shot.


The Hawthorn Wand

There was no knocker. Nothing that indicated that they were fond of unexpected visitors. The door was large and imposing. It may have been the dark cousin of Hogwarts' own great oak front doors. He was impressed by the elaborate engravings that decorated its surface; the last time he had been here, he hadn't exactly had the opportunity to appreciate his surroundings. Now that he was back, he was curiously aware of each little detail, particularly since he had no idea how to alert the occupants of Malfoy Manor to his presence. To say that they'd be surprised to find Harry Potter standing on their front porch was an understatement.

The master of the house, Lucius, would not be home at present, as he was currently serving a four year term in Azkaban. His son would undoubtedly be somewhere in the Manor or on the grounds now that the Wizengamot had sentenced him to one year of house arrest. While Narcissa had escaped punishment by the Ministry, she was rarely seen in public these days. The threats made against the Malfoy family by victims and enemies of Voldemort and the Death Eaters (Lucius in particular, one could imagine) forced her to remain within the confines of the Fidelius Charm that protected Malfoy Manor. Harry had been given permission by Kingsley Shacklebolt to return here. He reached up to trace a particularly vivid engraving of a strange looking elephant. As his finger came in contact with the door, a muted sort of clanking reached his ears from above. A tasseled chain was lowering itself from the overhang above. He thought perhaps he should be wary, but instinctively he grabbed it and yanked it downwards.

The door was opened by a house elf almost immediately. Harry's mind filled with an image of Dobby's face. This must either be his replacement or former colleague. Perhaps even a relative. He didn't dare ask. Harry stated his purpose as the elf requested and was escorted through the Manor. Memories of his last visit panged him. At that time he had seen a minimum of the house and focused little on his surroundings. He wasn't sure if he'd been through the rooms and passages he walked through now and tried to block out the echoing screams resounding in his head. Finally, the elf left him to sit in a room with a fireplace, some antique chairs, and a grand bookcase.

He sat very still; the air around him seemed to pulse with age-old traces of magic. He had never felt anything quite like it. The magical content of course could not measure up to that of Hogwarts, but it felt more tangible. It was sinister. Grimmald Place could not compare. He shivered.

"The Dark Lord didn't leave without bestowing the gift of his eternal presence," a voice said from behind him, cold and hard. "The Ministry did its best to remove the curse, but it still disturbs us with chills in the night on occasion." Harry tried not to reveal any alarm at the sight of his school nemesis. The public was angry that the Death Eater who had attempted to murder Albus Dumbledore had gotten off with only a year of confinement within his beautiful mansion. But Harry now realized that it was clearly more of a punishment than anyone could imagine. Malfoy's skin seemed paler than it had ever appeared before. It had a grayish hue. His hairline seemed to be receding prematurely. His eyes were too old to belong to an eighteen year old, but Harry knew a similar weariness must be reflected in his own. "There has been a vast amount of magic, particularly dark, performed within these walls," he continued, moving to sit in the chair across from Harry's, "Doesn't feel nice, does it?" Harry shook his head stiffly.

"Pipsy," Malfoy said, confusing Harry until the house elf reappeared, "Tea." The elf left wordlessly. "Yes, Master Draco," Malfoy bit out after the elf as it left, resentment clear in his tone, "We have bad luck with house elves. The Malfoys have never been able to keep one for more than five years, which is remarkably brief, considering they're meant to serve families for life, generation after generation. You remember one such elf. They usually end up killing themselves, though," Harry's disgust must have shown on his face, because Malfoy cocked his head slightly, "They manage to disobery many commands and punish themselves harshly, their bodies eventually giving out. Father thinks it has something to do with the Manor having been headquarters for the human resistance to so many goblin rebellions. They're related somehow, house elves and goblins."

"Your ancestors?" Harry asked, referring to the goblin resistance.

"No, the Manor was renamed 112 years ago when it was purchased by my great, great, great grandfather. The history intrigued him, not to mention the beauty of the grounds. But goblins had never done well by him; he claimed that they attempted to rob ancient goblin-made heirlooms from the dead bodies of his parents after they had been laid to rest."

Pipsy retuned with the tea, Harry helped himself, hoping the action would disguise his discomfort. "Get the wand for me, Pipsy." The elf returned quickly bearing a wand that was unfamiliar to Harry.

"My mother's," Malfoy stated without being asked, "We've had to share it. The Ministry feels it is – ah, unnecessary for me to have a new one made just yet."

He then proceeded to attempt to light a fire in the fireplace, but it took him a third try to produce a sufficient spark.

"I've never known you to be so chatty," Harry commented.

"I've only had Mother to talk to all this time. And I've never known you to be a mute," he paused before correcting himself, "but I suppose Granger was always the mouthy one." Harry said nothing to this. Uncomfortable silence settled over the room like a thick woolen blanket.

"Why did you come?" Malfoy finally asked. "Need a favor? First of all, I can't do much for you as long as I'm trapped here, and second of all, I never asked you to save me. I didn't beg. I don't owe you anything, Potter."

The familiar sneer was back. It emboldened Harry.

"I know you don't and I wouldn't ask you to," he stated firmly, "Last time someone repaid a debt to me was in your dungeons. I watched as he strangled himself. I actually wanted to thank you." Malfoy was evidently skeptical, a thin, white eyebrow raised. "You hesitated and bought us more time on the night we were brought here and you didn't kill Dumbledore." It was clear that Malfoy did not see this as a reason to be grateful, but Harry continued, "Both ultimately prevented Voldemort from possessing the Elder Wand. So even if I held you to your supposed debt, it would technically have been paid already."

Malfoy did not agree or disagree with this. He sat pondering the logic for a moment. Then Harry reached into his pocket to draw out a wand. Malfoy reflexively held out his mother's wand in defense, though they both knew it wasn't much of a weapon in his hands.

"It's yours, the one I took," Harry explained, holding it out to him. Malfoy was shocked.

"It is… I didn't… never thought…" He was at a loss for words, but as he grasped his old wand again, a hint of color flooded his features. Sparks flew from the tip gracefully.

"Didn't think I'd give it back?"

"I don't know. I thought maybe it had been destroyed or confiscated or something," he was rather amazed, "Never thought I'd see it again, at any rate."

He tested it out for a bit. Harry felt it was an appropriate time to leave, so he rose from his chair. Malfoy seemed to have forgotten that he wasn't alone until Harry held out his hand for a shake. It was accepted with slight reluctance.

"We aren't friends," the blond wizard drawled.

Harry knew things couldn't really change between them, but he had done his small bit of good. "No," he agreed, "but I think we have more in common than we'd like to admit. We were both raised for a specific purpose and conditioned to work in a certain way," Malfoy made no argument, so he continued, "I think that's why your wand worked so well for me. It recognized a common trait between us. And now we both just want to live a neutrally peaceful existence. Well, don't you?"

Malfoy contemplated him for a moment, his gray eyes moving over Harry's features carefully. "Thank you," he said politely. Harry nodded before turning to the door, leaving Malfoy behind him.

The house elf returned to show him out. As they neared the elaborate front door, Harry took a chance. "You know, he's not so bad, your master. Just traditional, but perhaps he's learning." The house elf hardly acknowledged that Harry had spoken. "Besides, goblins are generally nasty, anyway, and those weren't even Malfoy ancestors, were they?"

Inexplicably, the Malfoy family never had trouble with their house elves again.


End file.
